The Accidental Pope (37 page)

Colleen smiled. “Not that I am adopting her, or any other papal progeny, as a role model. But Lucrezia did the Vatican proud artistically, although there is little or no history of her being devout or even religious. Lucrezia, one of several daughters of popes, did more than any woman to promote the artistic wealth of the Renaissance, and it was her initiative that jump-started the sixteenth-century aesthetic revolution.”

Colleen smiled coquettishly. “I expect to spend much of my time here in the libraries and museums, and it is unlikely that you will hear any more about my religious convictions or lack of them in the coming years.”

Unaccountably she caught the bright gleam in Cardinal Belloti's eyes as he stared at her from his stance to her right beyond the pope's table. She allowed two or three silent beats in her locution before going on. “Unless,” she continued, “some sort of religious epiphany seizes me by the shoulders, shakes me to the core, and instills the fear and love of God within me.” Colleen's smile became an insouciant grin. “Which event is highly unlikely to occur.” She turned to her father. “OK, Daddy?”

Pope Bill stood up and, taking her hand, guided his scintillating daughter around the table and back to her place beside him. “We will keep you posted on Colleen's artistic and ecclesiastic endeavors. I suspect it will be the former we will hear the most about.” There was good-natured laughter throughout the hall. Colleen had successfully made her religious life a nonissue.

Another questioner, a middle-aged woman whose clothing and bearing suggested that she was Italian, confirmed the pope's hunch when in Italian she asked her question, which was translated over the headsets the children placed over their ears.

“I would like to ask the younger daughter, Meghan, this question. We saw you on television the day it was announced that your father would be our next pope. You mentioned that you thought it would be very hard for you and the other children to make the adjustment of being uprooted and moved to Rome. May I ask how you are feeling about that now?”

When the translation was completed, Meghan glanced at her father, swallowed hard, and then drew the microphone on the table in front of her closer. “To be perfectly honest, at first I did feel as if we had been uprooted, but very soon, with the help and understanding of the people here at the Vatican, both lay and clergy, we soon began to feel welcome and at home.”

The ice seemed broken as a mixture of feminine understanding and muted applause greeted this reserved response. She went on. “Naturally, it has been very difficult for us. But I am grateful to the staff at the Vatican for their kindness. They have bent over backward to make things as easy as possible. Dad—” She hesitated. “Pope Peter II and I are both aware that it has been uncomfortable for so many other people as well.”

She looked at her father as if he might now lend some help. But he nodded encouragingly and motioned with a wave of his hand for her to continue. Meghan took a deep breath and let it out, relaxing a bit more. “I can assure all of you there was no one in the world more stunned, maybe even frightened at first, by the idea of my father being elected pope than I. Except for my dad, of course.” Some further laughter and titters came from the ladies in the audience.

“It was, to be frank, the most unusual experience any of us ever went through in our lives or could imagine any American family with kids our age experiencing. We all decided for ourselves and also as a family that the Holy Spirit somehow had decided this.” Meghan paused and stared out at individuals in the audience one by one and then continued.

“And yet we know that many people will always feel we—my father, myself, and my brother and sister—do not belong here.” Meghan paused as though searching for a phrase she had decided to use when she had planned her talk. “I will say honestly that we find no comfort in those who mention, even jokingly, that the new pope won't be any worse than some who have held this office in the past and that the Church will survive and thrive as always. All that I have wanted to be is Bill Kelly's daughter and someone he could be proud of. But most of all, I want my mom to look down from heaven and be proud of how we have made her feel.”

Meghan's apparently unrehearsed speech left the room wrapped in silence. Bodies began to shift, uneasily, in their seats. Total honesty seemed to have disarmed most of those present.

An Italian woman asked about how the other children were doing. A few more polite questions, difficult to understand even with the help of the interpreters, were asked and answered by Meghan and Colleen Kelly.

Young Roger replied with warmth and charm to the question directed at him. “What are you going to do about the Swiss guard who cracked your head, young man? Have him sent home?” The not-so-jocular question was put to the pope's youngest son.

“I have apologized to him for being the first skateboard artist to cruise the Vatican's marble hallways and not warning the commander of the Guard,” Roger replied. “I offered to change places. He could take the skateboard, I'd hold the battle-ax. But Eric said no, he'd feel safer with his halberd.” Roger's zest charmed the audence.

At a signal from Monsignor Cippolini a young man midway back in the crowd was next to be recognized. The youthful questioner took the microphone somewhat nervously. He was tall, with long blond hair neatly brushed back, stylishly attired in a dark suit, a white shirt with a button-down collar, and a conservative tie. “Pope Peter, I'm not sure I belong here or should even be speaking, but because of all the background news we have heard of you back in the States I feel compelled to ask you this question. You are very aware of the sexual urges in most people. I am conversant with the Church's position on homosexuality. Do you foresee those teachings changing to accommodate people like me?”

From the corner of an eye Bill saw Bellotti's hands rise and cover his face. Cippolini, supervising the microphone handlers, seemed to blanch and speculate on how to get the microphone away from the lanky youth. Hundreds of heads in the crowd turned to the questioner, many with evident disgust.

Bill Kelly shifted uncomfortably in his seat and glanced at Meghan for support. Her eyes were closed, head bowed. Slowly Bellotti's fingers opened as his black eyes focused on Bill's reaction.

The pope cleared his throat sharply and, half smiling, tried to answer the question. “I confess, my friend, that I have not had much time to review the subject myself or with the bishops of the curia since I arrived here. I am aware that homosexuality is and has been a matter of deep concern with the Church. The Church has always held that the union between man and woman and the procreation and education of children was the primary responsibility of marriage. The importance of that relationship in the eyes of God cannot be overemphasized. So I can't at this time give any additional statement as to what further instructions may be coming from Rome.”

Cardinal Bellotti seemed to draw a more relaxed breath and his hands uncovered his face. Cippolini could do nothing but stand in the aisle close to where the youth was listening to the pope's discourse.

The pope gave his questioner a forgiving smile. “This probably seems just my official way of avoiding the issue, so if I may I would like to offer you the feelings that Bill Kelly had on the subject of sex before he came to Rome. But as a Catholic one can hate the sin, but love the sinner.”

He waited a moment before proceeding, noticing a sudden wave of interest sweeping through the several thousand people in the audience. “I had the distinct feeling when I was in the seminary that sex was a very uncomfortable subject in the Church. I guess it is common knowledge that sex is accepted as necessary to keep the human race going, but that those who live a life of chastity are more ‘pure' than married laypeople. It was my own dear wife who pointed this out to me sometime in the sixth month of our marriage. She told me that somehow she got the feeling that when we made love I acted like I was doing this dirty thing called sex, but smugly I could get away with it because I was married now.”

A titter arose from the audience, but the pope continued with his explanation. “It took me a while, with some counseling, to get my head screwed on right. So, yes, I do understand about sex urges, but due to my own upbringing I have only one view of sex.” He stared out at the audience. “That is as a relationship between men and women.”

Pope Bill smiled consolingly at the questioner. “I suppose that means, at least from your point of view, that I can't be objective. But I don't feel inclined to do a scientific study, if you know what I mean!”

Cardinal Bellotti had covered his face again at the pope's candor as laughter rose in appreciation of the joke and the pope speaking his own personal feelings. “From a scriptural point of view, I guess I would be inclined to follow St. Paul's views—that it is not the normal manner of sex. As he said in Romans chapter one, verses twenty-seven and eight…” Once again Bill paused, looking directly at the young man standing in the midst of an obviously hostile audience. “‘Men abandoned the natural relations with women and were inflamed with lust for one another. Men committed indecent acts with other men and received in themselves the due penalty for their actions.' I never quite knew what that last part meant. But now that we have the crisis of HIV and AIDS, I wonder if that is what he was talking about. I suppose the only way my theory could be proven would be to dig up some of the ancient grave sites of the early Romans of his time and check to see what the remains might reveal.”

Bellotti dug his fingers into his face as the pope went on. “Since Scripture is not taken very seriously in the modern world, I doubt that will ever occur. So all I can say to you, my friend, to give some comfort, is that you continue to pray to Jesus to guide you. God created us all out of love, and you were made in his image just as I was. On my part I will certainly make it known that we need to understand all people regardless of their own views and preferences, even when we don't agree with them.”

Bill Kelly bestowed a sympathetic smile on the handsome youth, microphone still in hand, although Cippolini was obviously anxious for the priest in the aisle to retrieve it.

The pope had a few more words of comfort for the unsure youth. “As Jesus said to Peter in the Garden of Gethsemane, ‘The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.' We all need God's grace and strength to be what he wants us to be. God bless you for your question.”

The young questioner turned to his equally attractive male companion as he relinquished the microphone. “Well, not exactly what we wanted to hear, but at least some understanding … I guess.”

Bellotti removed his hands from before his face and glared at Cippolini in the aisle, trying to choose the next questioner with more care. From the raised hands in the audience Cippolini spotted an elderly harmless-looking gentleman and signaled the young priest in the aisle to hand the microphone to him. The old man grasped it purposefully and stared at the pope as Bill strained to see and hear where the next question might come from.

In a stern, powerful voice the interrogator began. “Mr. Kelly.” He paused as a gasp of dissent at this disrespectful address swept the audience. “Don't you feel a measure of shame at the fact that you betrayed your priestly vows to become a married man?”

Dead silence once again. Only Bellotti smiled in acquiescence. Several angry faces turned to the man who had asked such an impertinent question. Others bowed or shook their heads as if to block the moment out. Two people in the room responded immediately. One was a Swiss guard who began walking toward the questioner in the event he had more than asking a rude question on his mind. The other was Bill Kelly, sitting calmly and looking at the gentleman still standing there, confronting him.

“Why, yes, sir. Certainly I have always felt ashamed of that, and of the many other sins I have committed during my lifetime. But I believe God is loving and forgiving and that he continues to love me and all of us despite our myriad imperfections. I thank God for giving me another opportunity to serve you and His Church.” Some in the audience, moved with emotion, rose to their feet and applauded.

The man now holding the microphone spoke again, with evident pain. “One more question.” His voice rose and cracked slightly. “Do you forgive me for asking that question?” He handed the microphone back to the young priest, who was still startled by the colloquy.

Bill looked at his daughters, then at his audience. Meghan grasped his hand as he regained his composure and leaned forward toward the microphone in front of him. “My friend, there is nothing to forgive. Perhaps you have satisfied the doubting experienced by the many who are pained by my election. All you got was a simple fisherman—Bill Kelly.”

The direct assault proved fortuitous. As if on signal, more among the audience began to clap. The applause lasted at least half a minute, though it seemed an eternity. Al Cippolini caught the pope's eye, and, by his nod of approval, Bill knew they were out of the woods. The audience was suddenly developing a rapport with the Kellys.

Questions turned to the children, husbands and wives, skateboards and stitches, the oldest daughter and how she was faring in Rome this Christmas. Finally the question Bill had hoped would be asked was posed to Meghan.

“Miss Kelly, have you ever thought you might be considered to be something like the American president's daughter? A First Daughter?”

Thoughtfully Meghan admitted that she had given consideration to just this; she had worried about what sort of role she should play in the world as, indeed, a First Daughter of sorts. “I have never been a person who wanted attention. However, even before our plane landed in Rome, an idea came to me about trying to play a small role to stop all wars.”

She glanced about an enthralled audience. “I have not had the chance to discuss this with my dad or anyone else for that matter … But I thought I might invite the other First Children of the world to the Vatican and have them all persuade their parents that war should not be allowed in the world. As I settle into being the daughter of Pope Peter II, I wonder what I can do to keep alive the hope I think all children in this world share. We do not want to be sent into another war. Any ideas the people of the world might have on accomplishing this goal will be appreciated, studied, and sent to qualified men of the Church, including my dad.”